Lose-lose, but maybe that's the point.

Perhaps I've written about this before. It certainly has not been a single isolated incident in my life. But as of late, I have been facing a decision that has plagued me, tormented me, really, as to what would be the right decision. When I find myself in this situation, my first inclination, and perhaps rightfully so, is to pray for guidance. I ask God to show me the way to go. With this particular decision, I've gone so far as to beg God to treat me like a toddler in a busy mall: put Your hand on my head and physically turn me. But as I continue to plead for unquestioned guidance, I feel more and more like God is refusing. And I don't feel that it is out of His frustration with my indecision. This is a lesson I may need to learn that I simply couldn't if I relied on hand-on-head guidance.

As the decision has been laid out in front of me, it has seemed to develop its own new layers, digging itself ever deeper into complexity and confusion, making the decision more difficult by the day. I actually made the decision once, very clearly stating my intentions, but the decision refused to allow itself to be made, and it came back to me again, not just once, but four times so far. It has become so complicated, in fact, that something that started as a seemingly win-win situation has evolved into what I now feel is more of a lose-lose.

But maybe that's the point. Maybe every once in a while, I need to be forced to choose, even in a lose-lose decision, so that God can show me that He can turn which ever way I go into a win. And He can. Even if I make the "wrong" choice, will He not guide me back? Will He not choose to use it for good? We're told in no uncertain terms that God uses everything for good. Amongst all of the layers and shadows and minutia and cruddy details of this decision, it's so easy for me to forget God's providence and goodness. How much He cares for me. How He has provided me a distinct purpose.

Next week, as I force myself to sit down in one more meeting for this torturous decision, I will peel back the weight of the sheer pressure of making the "right" decision. I will take a deep breath, and I will confidently make a decision. And God will surely use it for good as I continue to chase His heart.

Snow-tastic

Look, everybody that knows me knows that I'm not a huge fan of snow. I'm not sure how I ever got this way. Maybe it's because I am perpetually cold (even in the summer), or maybe it's because I like the bottoms of my pants to stay clean for an entire day. More than likely it's because I don't feel particularly safe in winter - winter driving, winter walking, and let's not even make mention of the perils of winter sports...all dangerous. 

So, what's a person to do when they don't like winter. Well, I could choose to move south. In my career field, I'm not necessarily locked into a location forever, so it could be a possibility...but probably not for the next few winters at least. I could, as some have suggested, fake it, changing the way I think about snow altogether. I have tried to muster every positive thought about snow that I could manage, and although I happen to think that snow, at the moment it is falling, prior to roadsides looking filthy, is pretty, I haven't found much else to love about it. I could recite, "Snow is so pretty! Snow is so pretty! Snow is so..." over and over again while driving my car through it, but my guess is that the moment my tires slip or the guy in front of my fishtails, "...pretty!" will not be the thought that shoots through my head. 

I may have a few other choices, like living in complete denial. "Snow? What snow?" But people may quickly begin to think I've lost it. Or, somewhat related to denial - distraction. This is probably the route I try to go for this winter. If I can't beat it, love it, or fake my way through it, perhaps I can just fill my head with a thousand other thoughts...not too tough in my life; there are enough spare random thoughts to go around. Whenever a rouge and disgruntled thought of snow comes to mind, I will simply beat it back with thoughts of, well, anything else. Grad school projects, dissertation topics, how good the office coffee is today, what might happen next on Once Upon a Time, the last date I cleaned my bathroom, upcoming trips, summer vacation, the to-do pile on my desk...oh yes, I think I can come up with enough. It may not be the ideal solution, but for today, it's worth trying to keep me from being a winter-long scrooge. Nobody likes a scrooge, but maybe people can like an extremely distracted Lindsey.

Life-Changing

A few weeks back, I went to have dinner with Megan and Eric. Megan started to make dinner and I made attempts to be helpful. I like to cook, but I can be a little gun-shy in other people's kitchens. She was making cheeseburger soup (which was delicious, by the way). I watched her move around the kitchen comfortably, taking to tasks as she usually did, and I began to notice something very different between the way she cooked and the way I typically cooked. She began to brown the hamburger, and meanwhile set the table. After the hamburger was done, she added it to the soup base, and nearly immediately went to scrubbing the pan the hamburger was in. She opened a package, unwrapped a product, or shaved peeling off of something, and all waste was immediately brought to the trash. By the time we sat down to eat, every spare spoon that was used was in the dishwasher, every spill was wiped up, and every piece of trash was trashed, leaving just the pot of bubbling soup, a ladle, and the set table. 

You may be reading this thinking, "I don't get it. What's so special about this story?" Well, if you know me at all, when I cook, it's a hot mess. Containers of food end up everywhere, wrappers are left strewn about, dirty spoons line the counter. And when I'm done enjoying my delicious concoction, I usually look back at the kitchen with a fair amount of disdain, really regretting that I would now have to clean up a mess. 

Last week, I decided to try my wise friend's method of cooking-cleaning. The change did not seem so stark while cooking necessarily. I had plenty of time while waiting for water to boil or meat to cook to pick up the trail that accumulated for just that step. It wasn't until after the meal that I realized just how momentous this experience had been. For the first time, maybe ever, I looked back into the kitchen and didn't hate what I saw because it just looked like my kitchen rather than my kitchen piled high with a giant mess. I blissfully took my one plate and fork to the dishwasher, and put the leftovers in the fridge. Done. 

Usually when things are described as "life-changing" they are really pretty significant, like realizing you have the power to climb a 14,000-foot mountain or something, but this tiny little quirky trait of Megan's that I witnessed, attempted, and then promptly implemented fully into my life was truly, absolutely life-changing. It kind of makes me wonder what sort of other life-changing habits I could explore that I've been missing all these years. Could I be doing laundry better? Are there rules to gardening I've missed? Are there things I could become more efficient in at work? Life-changing things don't have to be huge, they just have to...well, change your life! Do you have a life-changing discovery for me? Can you teach me something that will revolutionize one itty-bitty piece of life for the better? I would love to learn it.

Normal

Every once in a great while, I get a reminder of what a "normal" person's life might look like: an unscheduled weekend with no plans, a night set aside to just watch TV, moments of tedium at work... My immediate response is almost always, "BO-RING!" What do people DO with that kind of time on their hands? How into one TV show could a personal possibly get? You mean your work looks like this every day? 

But I think I know why I usually have this reaction to many folks' "normal." I really actually view my life as "normal," and theirs as bizarre. And I am quite sure that on the other side of the coin, people think the same of me. To me, "normal" is that my only sitting still time is almost always coupled with research or writing time. "Normal" is spending 50-60 hours a week at work in a slow week. "Normal" is mixing passion projects into the tiny slivers of freedom I may find (like gardening, house renovations, cooking...). "Normal" is rarely sleeping in, even more rarely going to bed early, and never taking naps. "Normal" is cramming in time for health (like working out at least three times a week, refusing freezer-to-microwave meals, prayer, loud singing...). 

What? That doesn't sound "normal" to you? 

Yep, I know "normal." I feel "normal." And I kind of like "normal."

Eating Cake

I'm really not a fan of when people say things like, "Oh, well, of course you can have that huge piece of cake. With a body like yours, you can probably eat anything you want... Some of us aren't so lucky." Really? Is that really what you believe? That may have been the case when I was in junior high and high school, eating everything on earth with no consequence. But it probably was for you, too, snide, jealous person. 

In reality, the only reason why I can choose to have this giant piece of cake right now is because I have a date with four miles and treadmill tonight. And tomorrow. And Saturday. In fact, this year I might just eat lots of cake because I expect to have a few hundred dates with over 500 miles. I will add romance to those dates with lovely little protein shakes and energy bars, and I will entice and excite a few more miles with maybe a new pair of shoes or a cute workout outfit. And then, I will bask in the afterglow of every one of those dates, knowing I earned my piece of cake, and the glorious body that you are so jealous of right now. 

So, go ahead and keep publicly refusing cake and feeling sorry for yourself if that's the route you choose. As for me, I choose to have my cake, and my workouts, and my rockin' body, too!

Dear Future Husband

Dear future husband,

I've written to you before, but this time, I have one specific thing on my mind. Tonight I went for a nice hard treadmill run. It's the dead of winter, I'm not a huge fan of treadmills, but I went. Why? In fact, why do I workout at all? 

I mostly do it for me. I feel better, look better, and am better with every workout. It's good for my heart, good for my mind, good for every muscle I've got. I feel stronger than I've ever been. With each workout, I feel stronger. At this rate, by the time I'm 80, I will be Super Woman.

But secretly, I also do it a little bit for you. Someday when we meet, I hope to take your breath away. But I'm not going to show you everything right away. You will wonder why I dress so conservatively until we're actually married, and then you will understand. Even as a conservatively dressed lady, you'll have to beat back the other guys, keeping their eyes away from me. You'll hate that you've got to do this...until we're actually married. After that, you'll just smile, knowing that you're the only one that ever gets to take me home at night.

So, even though I'm intrinsically motivated to keep on working out for myself, know that you're always in the back of my mind.

Love, 

Your future wife

Actual Resolutions...why not?

Okay, so I had the hunch that I would need to add more discipline to my life this year. [Side note, when I revealed my "resolution" to the neighborhood when the inevitable topic came up at last night's party, I got a pretty expected response: "You? Discipline?" Oh, what little people know about people's lives...] But I've decided, in the spirit of discipline, that maybe I did need a few actual resolutions. Attainable ones. Ones that are good for me. So, here we go. 

1) I want to eat one fruit and one vegetable each day. 

This seems pretty simple, and for most people, is probably second nature. It's basic balanced diet science. But, in reality, I don't think I really do eat a fruit or vegetable each day. I maybe get one or the other in most days. But I would like to commit to eating one of each every day. Oh, and french fries don't count. Nor does a sprinkle of lettuce on a taco. Cheating on this is really just cheating myself out of better health. 

2) I want to log 500 miles.

I've seen a few friends publicly committing to this, and I think I can totally achieve it. Here's what I will count in my logging: running, treadmill-ing, elliptical-ing, biking, and serious walking. In case you're curious, it averages out to 1.67 miles a day. And everything else will just be bonus. Yoga, fitness classes, walking around campus...all just good things to do.

So there you have it. I've fallen victim to the cliche resolution-making tradition that so many do. Here's to discipline and new good habits in 2012!